


“Ford... you're turning into a penguin. Stop it.”

by notjustmom



Series: Towel Day 2018 [35]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Douglas Adams, Fluff, M/M, Towel Day 2018, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 10:40:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15071465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: after the wedding...





	“Ford... you're turning into a penguin. Stop it.”

At the moment, John was wishing they had decided to stay at the hotel where they had held their reception, they had been offered a perfectly lovely honeymoon suite, with the largest, deepest bathtub he had ever seen, a bed that wouldn't have even fit in either of their rooms at Baker Street, even if they had managed to get it up the stairs, and better yet, he wouldn't have had to carry his now husband of less than three hours up the bloody seventeen steps to the flat, as there was a perfectly good elevator that would have stopped within spitting distance of the door of said suite. 

But Sherlock had wanted to be home. He had put up with the debates over the font of the wording on the invitations, the fancy dress, church service, flowers, candles and cake, even the little Holmes cousins his mum had discovered somewhere who served as flower girls, and John believed he knew why. Sherlock's mum had never thought that either of her boys would ever find someone, not that she didn't truly love them both, but she knew that they were, at the very least, an acquired taste, and when John had encouraged Sherlock to tell her about the engagement, he had no idea what he was dragging him, them both into. Sherlock had warned him, and tried to convince him that they would be better served by a visit to their local register office, maybe with Gra - Greg and Molly as witnesses, dinner at Angelo's after, but he saw the look on John's face, and knew that, even though John hadn't said a word about what he wanted, he was Sherlock Holmes after all, he stopped speaking, pulled his phone from his pocket, and slowly punched in his parents' number.

"Mummy?"

"William?"

"Guess what?" Sherlock turned and kept his eyes on John, pulling the phone away from his ear, a half second before his mother's ear-piercing scream that John could hear from across the room, and was sure most of Baker Street could as well.

"Sorry," John mouthed at him, but Sherlock just rolled his eyes at him, and shrugged.

That was six long months ago.

 

"John... " Sherlock whimpered in his arms, finally looking up at him as they were nearly to their door. "You're - you're turning into a penguin. Stop it, immediately."

"I think it's just the tux, love." John hoped they had left the door unlocked, as his keys were... in the pants he had worn yesterday, that were currently draped over the chair in the bedroom. He closed his eyes and sent a brief prayer skyward as he turned the door handle, then breathed a sigh of relief as they nearly tumbled into the flat.

"Oh, right. Home. Finally. It's over, yes?"

John carefully laid him on the couch and finished undoing the tie that Sherlock had nearly ripped off the moment they fell into the cab that brought them home. "Yes, love. It's done. I'm so sorry - I should have listened to you."

Sherlock opened his eyes and placed a hand on John's face. "No. You were right, John. Did you see how happy she was? I don't think I've ever seen her happy until tonight, not truly happy. She won't have grandchildren, unless Mycroft has a love-child somewhere that no one knows about - and I wanted it for you, too."

"For me?"

"Why do you think I proposed to you, John? Went to the trouble of having a ring made, I even went down on one knee, and you know how my knees are, these days. In my perfect scenario, of course, I had hoped that we could have just signed a book, shared a bottle of wine and an order of tiramisu, and be done with it, but, I saw your face when I slid the ring on your finger, John, and I knew - and I wanted you to have it all, John, all of it."

"But, why, Sherlock? You loathe crowds and ties and cuff links and fuss, you even asked your brother to be your best man, I thought he would stroke out when you asked him. Why?"

"Oh, John. From the moment I left you that day, I swore if I ever made it back, and you had it in you to forgive me, I was going to marry you, and throw you the biggest damn party so people knew - no, I don't really care what people think, not really, but I wanted you to know, how very much I love you. Now, get these bloody penguin suits off, and take me to bed, please?"

"Yes, love."


End file.
